


Love and Death, Meeting and Farewell

by lintwhite



Category: Venture Bros
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-13 18:52:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lintwhite/pseuds/lintwhite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brock contemplates the events that took place during the season four finale and his relationship with Dr. Venture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and Death, Meeting and Farewell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [El Juno (ElJuno)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElJuno/gifts).



“Whoa, whoa, there, Doc!” Brock reached out to steady a swaying Dr. Venture. “I think you had too much to drink this time around.”

“That is impossible, I feel fine -” Dr. Venture slurred as he held onto the wall for a moment, looking sick enough to dye the carpet a more lurid color than it already was. “If there’s one thing Thaddeus S. Venture can do, it’s hold his liquor!” He let go of the wall to gesture dramatically and pitched forward.

Brock rolled his eyes as he helped Dr. Venture up, despite vehement protests, and half-carried him to his bed. Brock caught his reflection for a moment in the large mirrors on Dr. Venture’s closet door. He was still streaked in the gore from tonight’s slaughter. He winced. Thinking about tonight made a knot tighten in his chest in a way he wasn’t entirely accustomed to.

“You – you know,” said Dr. Venture, voice muffled by his pillows. “I never did find out what the hell a Rusty Venture is.”

“Eh, it’s nothing special, trust me.”

“Not that I want to know, mind. Just a…natural curiosity or something, I don’t -”

“Yeah, okay, listen, I’m going to find out where the boys got to. Just…stay here and don’t go stumbling around the house, all right?” Brock shook his head to clear the awful barrage of images assaulting his brain. “Don’t do anything stupid.” Truth be told, they weren’t the only ones left on the compound but Brock trusted Hatred’s ability to bodyguard about as much as he trusted Dr. Venture’s ability to competently do science drunk. Besides, the last he’d seen of the man, he had that woman slung over his shoulder, spanking her ass.

Brock was halfway out the door when he heard awful retching. “Brock, wait - don’t go.”

 

The first time Brock had met Dr. Venture, he hadn’t thought very much of him. To be honest, he was still sore from being given the assignment, which was little more than glorified babysitting, as far as Brock was concerned. Dr. Venture was a wash-up, nothing more than a hack at this point in his life, and there was something about him, despite all of the total weirdness Brock had seen in his life, that had rubbed him the wrong way.

It had been a matter of time and circumstance before the two forged something akin to a friendship. An inevitable event, to be sure, as both spent more time in the other’s company than they did with most other people. They had become each other’s biggest relationship, regardless of whether either of them wanted to admit it. Especially Dr. Venture, who had never exactly been a ladies’ man. Outside of his strained familial relationships, friendship was all he had left.

Before he left for Sphinx, Brock had once or twice entertained the idea of what it would be like if Dr. Venture got married. He was never against Dr. Venture dating, on the rare occasions that he did. But there was something about having a woman around the house, around the boys, that he felt he would object to. Maybe it was the interruption of a lifestyle he had grown accustomed to. When Hatred took over his post, he knew that any hope of a Mrs. Venture was gone forever – Hatred was a walking cockblock. And something about that comforted him.

Brock had never exactly signed off on having a normal life beyond his assignment but for people like Brock Samson, the whole stereotypical picket fence in the suburbs scenario was out of the question. Too many people hated him, he had seen too much. The only woman he ever loved had been more than capable of taking care of herself. There probably wouldn’t be another one.

A feeling not unlike being punched in the stomach hit Brock and he almost reeled backwards. Throughout the years, he had convinced himself that he hardened his heart. Death was an everyday occurrence for those in his profession. Losing those close to him was a very real fear, more real than any other so what was the point in agonizing over something that had quite possibly been inevitable from the beginning? But it never got any easier. It never would. He was only human, as the old adage went. The reflection he had seen in Dr. Venture’s mirror was a man that Brock was not used to – a man emotionally defeated. He had nearly lost everything he held dear to him once tonight. He had lost a part of himself he would never have again.

 

Brock was used to being covered in bodily fluids, especially the bodily fluids of others. When Dr. Venture stumbled out of bed and vomited all over himself and Brock’s already grimy clothes, all he could do was sigh and say, “Come on.” In the bathroom, Brock tried to wipe himself off with the dampened end of a towel but knew in his heart of hearts that the suit was beyond salvaging. The least he could do was get the fresh filth off. Dr. Venture was busy ridding himself of spiked punch and appetizers in the loudest manner possible.

“You know, Doc…” The words hung in the air, the bathroom silent for the time being. “We had a close call tonight.”

“You…you worry too much,” Dr. Venture slurred. “Yeah, sure, things didn’t go as planned but ole Rust had it -” He dry heaved into the toilet bowl.

“You don’t understand!” Brock slammed his hand down on the sink. “When I came back…when I came back, I really thought you guys…” He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly. “Look, I’ll talk about this – hey, Doc? You okay?”

Dr. Venture was sprawled out on the bathroom floor, one arm wrapped around the toilet, passed out cold. It had been a hell of a night, one that Brock would probably remember for many nights to come. But as much of a pain in the ass it all was, it was worth it, in the end. Even caring for a dead drunk Dr. Venture – the possibility that he might never be able to do any of it ever again made him sick thinking about it. He had known, as he raced back, he would never forgive her, for everything, dead Ventures or not. There were just some things that went beyond forgiveness.

“All right, let’s get you to bed,” Brock said, hefting Dr. Venture up over his shoulder. “I got the boys to find.”


End file.
